You Win or You Die
by TwilightLabyrinth
Summary: Set in personal timeline, for the record. At 13 Arya escaped Westeros a month after her father's death and traveled to Braavos. 6 months later she travels to Qarth and meets with Daenerys Stormborn to broker a deal. The she-wolf plays her own game of thrones but the outcome is the same: you either win or you die. *NOT SLASH*
1. Chapter 1

**1 month after the death of Lord Eddard Stark, Hand of the King**

**En Route to Braavos, Arya Stark**

The waves rolling chaotically under the boat as the storm blew around them. _Cersei…_ Arya curled herself into a ball on her small bunk thinking of the events that had taken her so far from home. _Joffrey…_Above her she could hear the crew battling to get them safely to Braavos. _The Tickler…_The men whispered that she was cursed while others said that she wasn't even there, that she was a ghost or, worse, death. _The Hound…_She had to admit that she looked worse than ever, unwashed, choppy hair, and sullen eyes. _Ilyn Payne…_They weren't off on the death part, though. She wouldn't hesitate to kill if they tried to find her out or made a move on her. _Polliver…_

The night rolled on but she couldn't sleep. _Ser Amory…_There was a mixture of fear and dread at the thought of her arrival in Braavos. _Ser Gregor…_She had given the coin to the captain and even without her saying it he understood exactly where she was going and the thought both scared and relieved her. _Weese…_If she didn't speak the men would not be able to figure out she was really a girl or that she was Arya Stark and on the run. _Chiswick…_It wouldn't be so easy forever though. _Meryn…_Soon enough she would have to return to Westeros. _Dunsen…_Her freedom would be ended one way or another. _Raff the Sweetling…_Unless, she gulped, she was too late. _The Hound…_ No. Thunder struck the sky above the ship. _Valar Morghulis._ She wouldn't be too late. She'd kill them all.

At last she could fall asleep on the harsh cot. Her dreams were filled with direwolves and her father's head as it rolled across the cobbles at the Sept of Baelor and Joffrey's voice screaming for Ser Ilyn to kill him. Unknown to her the sea grew more and more uneven as her dreams grew worse. The next day the sun rose in a clear blue sky over calm waters. The calm made Arya ill at ease. In every part of her memory calm always signified something worse was coming, the real storm.

**Near the Twins, on the banks of the Green Fork, Robb Stark**

Robb Stark looked back at the towering visage of the Twins. His mother had struck a hard bargain to get him across and to win him the Frey's support in the war. Looking forward, toward the south, he pushed the thoughts of the Frey family to the back of his mind. For now he had a war to worry about and two sisters to save. All that would have to happen before he had to marry the Frey girl and he had no idea if he would even survive let alone win the war.

The men set up their new camp near Seagard where the lord rode out to meet him. Tired from the ride and weary of what would come, Robb barely paid any attention to the meeting. Later he learned that the Mallisters had agreed to ride with his army South. He lay awake that night Grey Wind by his side thinking of his siblings scattered aross the kingdoms and Winterfell. When this was all over they would all go home, even Jon would be brought from the Wall to celebrate the end of the war and the girl's return home.

Grey Wind pressed against his master to comfort the boy. A shiver passed through him as he realized how cold he really was. He was always cold; he had lived his whole life in the North. Cold was as much a part of him as his father's since of honor that had been drilled into him since birth. He had blood of the First Men, he didn't get _cold. _But the Southerners would freeze. The former Queen, Cersie Lanister, and her son, the bastard king, Joffrey. He would bring winter to the. _Winter is coming. _

**The Red Waste, Daenerys Stormborn**

The exiled queen licked her lips making sure to get every last drop of water from her waterskin. It had been a week since she had stood in the flames with her Khal and his murderer. Her dragons made small sounds from their cages. They were her children, all she had left besides the remnants of her Khalasar. Those that remained were not the strongest of the men but she knew that in time they would be the strong warriors she would need to take her throne. Maybe, if she could, the strongest of her husband's Bloodriders would return.

She looked at the horizon. The Red Waste seemed to last forever. How long could her people last in these conditions? How long would their supplies last if they were to become lost within the vast dessert? They would all die if she failed them. She already had failed them once when she allowed the witch to tend their khal. She had lost their heir; their hope was gone because she gave the witch the order to use blood magic to save Drogo.

Ser Jorah was her island, her rock, the only thing that kept her strong throughout it all. Of all those that stood beside her, he was the one she trusted most out of all of them. His advice had saved her that day in the market and his advice might have saved her and her sun and stars if she'd have listened. She promised herself she would listen to him more now. There was no doubt in her mind he would stand by her until he died or until she sat on her throne unless he told him otherwise. She didn't know if she'd send him away but they would take her back her throne. _With fire and blood._

_Author's Note: This is IMPORTANT. I'm using my own timeline. For the most part the story will revolve around Arrya and Daenerys and their partnership. The story is based for the most part on the TV series and what I've read about the books. Please feel free to tell me if any of my facts are wrong but please do so politely as some may be on purpose. _


	2. Chapter 2

**1 year and 6 months after the death of Lord Eddard Stark**

**Braavos, Cat of the Canals**

The Cat had many spies. Even blind she knew everything that went on in the city and far beyond. She knew that in Qarth Daenerys Targaryen had three infant dragons and was seeking to cross the Narrow Sea. Yes, the Cat knew many things, like how to turn her sight on or off at will, how to mold herself to appear as someone else without taking a face, and, the most important skill, how to kill. She would have to leave Braavos now that she had learned all the faceless men had to teach her and she did not wish to join their ranks. It would be hard to say goodbye to Jaqen, she'd given him a name, an identity, against all his rules.

"The girl is leaving." Jaqen's voice from the doorway. She jumped, fumbling with her pack realizing he still thought she was blind. "The man will miss the girl when she has gone."

She turned her sight back on and turned to face him, her clear grey eyes met his wide ever changing ones. There were no words as he crossed her small room and cupped her ever pale cheek. He could not describe the strength of will it would take to do as she had. He had been blind once, same as she, and any attempt to see hurt more than the last. How had such a girl come to find such a skill within herself and overcome such pain? But then, he knew how. She was a wolf, a Stark of Winterfell, made for the harshest of environments. While it was true he felt for the girl it was no more than fatherly affection, or at least that was what he would say if he were asked. She had given him his identity, the one he returned to after a day's work, and knew that part of him could not bear to watch her leave.

"Where will the girl go? Home?"

She shook her head. "Not yet, at least." There was a pause. "When I left Harrenhall you gave me a coin, an open invitation and a lifeline, should I have needed it. Now I return the favor. Once the war ends, if you are ever in the North, should you need me, my help is yours."

She pressed a gold coin and an iron coin into his hand, a payment and a promise, and retreated. Closing her pack she looked around once more as though looking for any forgotten possesions. Instead she listened to the sounds of the whorehouse below silently vowing to thank them that had helped her and spied for her. Jaqen moved closer. One of the benefits of being blind for so long, she could not only hear movement, she could sense it. He held a knife in front of her, offering it to her.

"Keep yourself safe, Arya Stark." He whispered.

When she didn't move to take the blade immediately he placed it on top of her pack for her to take with her as she left. She huffed a short laugh before hiding it on the inside of her left calf at the top of her boot. Then, turning, she watched her former mentor leave for the last time as he turned to look back at her one last time. She wished she could say everything. A lump formed in her throat as she opened her mouth to say good bye to him and admit one last thing to him. He smiled and shook his head sadly.

"It is not good bye, Arya Stark, we will meet again."

With a final nod he was gone, an ability reserved for those who had learned the mysteries of the faceless men. Arya followed, closing the door with startling finality. There was no time to say good bye to anyone else and, besides, she'd said good bye to those who mattered days earlier. She made it to the docks just as her ship was beginning to load its cargo. The captain met her on the gangplank and took her pack to help her to her cabin. He saw her as a blind hag, not too old, but old enough that the remnants of beauty could barely be seen. Sailors would not be tempted by an old soothsayer like they would be a wild 15 year old. Once he'd secured her in her cabin the captain promised her that meals would be brought to her and the moved to return to the deck.

Relaxing, Arya let her illusion fall. If she survived this voyage and made it in to Qarth she would have to find the Targaryen girl and convince her that she was an asset. She pulled out the knife. Unsheathing it she proved it was made of Valyrian steel. A gleam off the blade told her it was poisoned as well, her old friend had mad doubly sure she was well protected. A smile split her lips.

"Valar Morghulis."

She let herself rest. It would take her weeks to arrive in Qarth and even then days to find the girl and gain her trust. If the sea was a calm and the winds fair the trip may have been shortened. But that still left too much time doing nothing. Empty time was for thinking. Thinking of a dead father, a lost brother (half-brother), and a caged sister held by the worst of monsters. All those things lost and taken, what did that leave her holding? After spending so much time in Braavos under a false name, trying to be no one she wasn't she if she could go back to being Arya Stark. She had had what she always wanted, freedom and the skills to be able to fight men bigger than her. Was she willing to give that up?

_Sansa, Bran, Rickon, Robb, mother….father. Family, Duty, Honor. _

Yes, she could give it up. For them.


End file.
